While her face and hands were not visible to Drayfitt and his mind was concerned solely with her safety, Erini unleashed a crude spell formulated only from half-formed thoughts and wishful thinking. The elderly spellcaster had explained that hand gestures were not necessary and mostly acted as a guide, but the princess did not trust her skills well enough to do without them. Her fingers wiggled in a maneuver that was pure instinct. Unfamiliar with the world of sorcery, she could not say whether she had accomplished her task or not. Whatever the case, Drayfitt was now standing over her and Erini knew that trying any longer would only give her away. As it was, she remained uncertain as to whether he knew or not. He had shown her how to shield her thoughts during their one session, but theory and practice were never the same, that held true in sorcery and governing.
“Are you all right, Princess Erini?”
She nodded slowly, trying to act dazed. “Yes-I missed my footing. Thank you.”
The sorcerer helped her to her feet. “A fall here could prove fatal, milady. You would not stop for thirty or forty feet at least. Come, the sooner we leave here the better, as far as all is concerned.”
Drayfitt opened the door, guiding Erini up to the surface with his other hand. The sun was going down and the garden was full of deep shadows, though none as deep as that which was Darkhorse, the princess thought.
Closing the door quietly, Drayfitt quietly said, “We will forget this happened, your majesty. Best for both of us, I’d say. Now go before someone asks why we were here.”
“This is ridiculous! I am a princess! Am I not to be queen of Talak? Should I go skulking about? I won’t be like you, Drayfitt! Not even for the love of Melicard!”
He frantically waved her quiet. In the distance, Erini heard the sounds of men in armor. “I only recommend it from past experience, your majesty. What you do is up to you, of course.”
“Princess Erini.”
Erini started and Drayfitt cursed under his breath. The princess calmed down, however, when she realized who it was. “Captain Iston!”
The Gordag-Ai officer bowed to her and, after a moment’s hesitation, nodded briefly to the sorcerer. “Princess, you are making it extremely difficult for my men and I to perform our duties. So far, you’ve succeeded in evading every one of them.”
“The princess is skilled at such things,” Drayfitt interjected. To Erini, he said, “Think on what I said, milady, and, by all means, make use of such loyal men as your captain here.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, then?” Iston asked, his suspicion roused.
“Only that I hope her majesty will allow you to perform your function. It’s sometimes hard to find a person you can trust so much. Good evening.”
His eyes on the departing sorcerer, Iston frowned. “That sounds like a warning of sorts.”
“It’s nothing.”
“As you command.” Nevertheless, the captain continued to look thoughtful. “Might I be permitted to escort you back to your chambers, your majesty? I have a handful of anxious bodyguards waiting for the two of us.”
“Why did you not bring them with you?”
Iston smiled enigmatically. “Some things are better handled by one man.”
They walked quietly through the garden, the officer falling in place just behind his mistress. Erini allowed her thoughts to turn back to the events below and the question as to whether her spontaneous actions had freed Darkhorse or not. She also wondered what Melicard would say if it turned out the shadow steed was free. Drayfitt would be unable to say anything; come the morning, he would be gone with the army. Both the king and Quorin might assume that Darkhorse had either escaped on his own or that Shade had taken him away somewhere.
Her secret would remain safe… unless she chose to tell Melicard. He had to learn some time… but when?
As before, her questions went unanswered. She exited the garden, followed by Iston, of course, with the knowledge that sooner or later the truth would come out and that it might benefit her if it was her admission, not Quorin’s, that Melicard heard first.
Guard leader Ostlich abandoned his hiding place overlooking the garden the moment the would-be queen and her lackey vanished back into the palace. His mind was aglow with the thought of the gold Counselor Quorin would pay him. What the princess from Gordag-Ai had been doing mattered as little to him as why Quorin had ordered the guards away from the area in the first place. He only knew that the counselor would pay for the knowledge that she had been down there and reward him further once the reins of rulership changed hands.
What happened to the princess was none of his concern.
XI
With theGrand Crusade now ready to commence, no one had time to inspect the chamber where the King’s reluctant demon had been locked away. Caught in the midst of final details that would keep them secluded all night, the king and his advisors saw no one except those who came to deliver information specifically on the march. Thus it was the Counselor Quorin remained ignorant of a fact that would have been of great import to both him and the king… for the barrier, the magical cage, and its sole occupant were no longer there. Had he received a message from one of the guard leaders to the Counselor Quorin, the advisor might have excused himself and investigated for himself, venturing down to the shadow steed’s prison, and discovering something of such importance that even the king would have taken interest… because the barrier, the magical cage, and its sole occupant were no longer there.
The bulk of Talak’s great army moved in swift and orderly fashion despite its impressive size. By dawn, more than half the column was outside the city gates. Around them, the citizens cheered their husbands, fathers, sons, and brothers. Cohorts four hundred strong marched by, most of them veterans eager to teach the monstrous drakes that humans of this particular city-state would never bow to the Dragon Kings again.
Lost in the cheers and commotion was one pessimistic sorcerer and several irritated commanders, all of whom felt they were moving in the wrong direction; but it was their duty to obey, and obey they would. The city was not undefended. There were garrisons posted all around the countryside, especially the northern and western borders. The city guard would keep order in Talak itself and the palace would be well-protected by the royal guard.
Unbeknownst to these forces, the northern garrisons, in response to orders received that very dawn, were preparing to move westward to meet with their counterparts there. For the next week, they were to face off in a series of war games designed to test their effectiveness in guerrilla fighting, much like the sort of war waged by Melicard in the early days of his crusade. While the commanders silently questioned the need for this, it was not the first time that some functionary in the government had decided to play up his own reputation by cracking down on the common soldier; and besides, the war was to be in the east for now, so no one would miss them for a few days, anyway.
No one argued the validity of the orders themselves; after all, they bore the king’s seal, didn’t they? Nobody but Melicard and his closest advisors used the seal.
The king saluted those riding out to do battle in his name, his visage somehow more regal than frightening this day. He had planned to lead them, as he had done in the past, but some of his advisors had recommended that he remain in the city. It would not do to have the crusade’s driving force accidently struck down in the heat of combat. At the palace, Melicard could coordinate all of his activities. There was also continued talk of the eventual marriage of Melicard and the princess from neighboring Gordag-Ai, an event most everyone was looking forward to with eagerness. Those near enough to see the king were able to get a glimpse of the Princess Erini standing at his side. Counselor Mal Quorin, Melicard’s chief advisor, stood on his other side.
In the shadow of a building near the city gate, a lone figure watched the ongoing procession with growing impatience. The shadows draped his visage, but even if they had not, it would have taken a long, close look to make out his patrician features and his arresting eyes-eyes with great, wide pupils not of any color, but instead glittering like fine crystal and seeming to see much more than the view before them. It was the face of one born to his place in the world, one who knew that all within his grasp was his. Azran Bedlam had worn such a look, but it paled in
